


Put The Pieces Back Right

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Series: I Suffer(ed) From The Birdcage Syndrome [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Bad Touch Chancellor, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Emotional Abuse, Implied/Referenced Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, MT!Prompto, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Possessive Behavior, Rape, Touch Aversion, cyborg AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: Chancellor Izunia's personal MT bodyguard and the Crown Prince of Lucis kinda have a thing for each other.





	Put The Pieces Back Right

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to invisibledeity for editing and beta'ing this, I'm so grateful for his help ;-;, and @chocoblondie on tumblr, whose idea this was in the first place. :)
> 
> Title is from the song "Here At The End", by Ryan And Leigh.

The first time you see the Crown Prince, it's at Galdin Quay.

The Chancellor had walked you down the dock and positioned you at the front of the restaurant while he went off to take care of other business. The only other time you've been out of Niflheim was a for brief trip to Insomnia, but those places are worlds apart from these views.

The sky is so wide and blue out here, unobscured by buildings and skyscrapers. You've never seen the ocean before; you've heard vague stories about it and seen a rare picture, but it's different up close. It's wet and prolonged contact would surely give your inner mechanisms grief, but inviting and strangely hypnotic nonetheless.

You must be absolutely gaping, because passersby give you odd looks and bump into you repeatedly as you stand there, enthralled. That's when you hear voices to your left, talking about the 'weirdo in the middle of the restaurant.'

You turn to find the Prince of Lucis.

The two of you look at each other for a moment, your brain completely wiped of the allure of the ocean.

Something about the bemused but guarded look on his face, the almond shape of his eyes, the way his hair sticks up at awkward angles like yours does when you wear a helmet, causes a part of you somewhere in your chest to shift uncomfortably. You can't tell if it's literal or metaphorical; is something broken inside you, or is it merely a change in mindset? Either way, you're frightened by it.

You jump a little, then straighten your back, smoothing out your uncomfortable civilian clothing before running to find the Chancellor.

He's over by the massage tables to the right, talking jovially with a masseuse, but you know better than to interrupt him while he's busy. The Crown Prince and his two companions make their way deeper into the restaurant, and you can't help but glance at them again as you wait for the Chancellor to finish—except he seems to notice too, finally, and cuts his conversation short.

He links his arm with yours, and the two of you walk right in the path of one of the Prince's friends.

The Chancellor rambles for a short while, something about boats and royalty, and soon you're both on your way, leaving them alone in confusion.

 

******

 

The next time you meet, in the streets of Lestallum, they're the ones to bump into you.

Of course, the Chancellor had planned it this way, and launches straightaway into giving a rehearsed speech to the Crown Prince. You quickly become distracted, and your gaze drifts to the Prince standing between his two retainers and looking utterly weary, worn down with exhaustion. You take a moment to smooth down the clothing that the Chancellor's making you wear for these meetings, and readjust the wristband where it chafes over your codeprint.

A weird part of you is grateful that the Prince isn't able to see it.

His eyes have turned to you now, and stay fixed there even as you walk across the car park. You're the one who eventually breaks eye contact, lest the Chancellor notices and becomes upset. You decide to focus on the way the late afternoon sun hangs in the sky, off the lookout. Even though Lestallum, too, is a city like any other, you're grateful for the ample amount of uncrowded space where you can see the sky.

Something flashes behind you, and you turn to see the Crown Prince with a camera in hand, mumbling, "Shit."

"Taking pictures?" The Chancellor stops where he is and walks closer to him. "Perhaps you should ask permission, first."

He breaks out into a practiced grin, and you're not sure if he's talking about his own permission or yours. It doesn't matter much though, as the comment flies over everyone else's heads.

"What's this fellow's name?" the retainer with the glasses nods in your direction.

The Chancellor frowns in response, but twists it quickly back into a smile.

"Ah," he starts, "yes." He turns to you. "Go on and introduce yourself, my boy."

You open your mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Me?" you ask, just to confirm.

The look in the Chancellor's eyes gets sharper, more dangerous, but you're the only one who picks up on it.

"Why else would we be looking directly at you and asking?"

You turn away from his penetrating gaze and find the looks on the other three's faces.

"I don't have a name," is all you say.

The Chancellor makes a small _ugh_ noise, and he links arms with you like he always does when you're in public together.

"This is...Prompto. He's my, ah, assistant."

"Assistant," the big, threatening retainer repeats, completely deadpan.

"That's right."

You only nod in response.

The Crown Prince's eyes narrow a little and he mutters, "It's nice to meet you, Prompto."

"Thank you," you reply, and by some miracle you don't trip over the syllables.

The Chancellor cuts the conversation off then, asking for a phone number where the Prince can be reached, and you split up into separate cars.

 

******

 

Everyone is upset to be sharing a caravan. Everyone except the Chancellor.

You see a lot of grumbling going on among the Prince and his companions as they carry supplies into the RV. You decide to take advantage of their distraction and bring the Chancellor around the side where it's a little more secluded.

"Is this really safe, Chancellor? The Prince is already suspicious enough of you. What if he realizes your identity and tries to kill you in your sleep, or something?"

The Chancellor laughs, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Even if he did, he knows he needs me to get to Cauthess. Besides, last I checked, your assignment was to deflect assassination attempts. Part of it, at least."

You shudder, but continue the line of questioning.

"What about the other part?"

He tilts his head a little bit, giving you another sharp look, similar to the one earlier. You adjust your hands, currently clasped behind your back, so you can play with your wristband.

"I mean, with everyone else in there, won't it be—"

"Be what?"

You clear your throat.

"Won't you be kind of loud, at night?"

The Chancellor's face softens, and he laughs.

"I'm not planning on using you tonight, don't you worry," he croons, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to comb through your hair.

That's hard to believe.

He leans in a bit, towards your ear, and the hand in your hair tightens its grip, enough to hurt.

"Just know that if I required servicing you would give it, even if it _was_ in the company of these three men. Understood?"

It's hard to nod while he's holding your hair like that, so you say, "Yes, Chancellor."

He smiles, backs away a little, turns, and there's the Crown Prince on the steps of the caravan, eyeing you. The Chancellor tips his hat and leaves, brushing past him as he enters the RV.

You stand there, frozen, unsure of what else to do.

The Prince goes to his car to retrieve a black duffel bag and then does something surprising: he walks towards you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, face torn between confusion and concern.

You blink. "Huh?"

"I mean, Ardyn. Does that guy bother you?"

You don't dare say anything, not when the Chancellor could be nearby. You look at the caravan window above you. Who's not to say he's sitting inside watching you, right now?

"Honestly," the Prince continues, "I think he's pretty creepy. I wouldn't be bothering with him if Ignis hadn't insisted."

You frown.

"Which one is he?"

"Oh. Uh," the Prince scratches the back of his neck, "the one with the glasses. The big guy's Gladiolus." There's a pause before he finishes with, "My name's Noctis, but you probably knew that."

"Do you want me to call you that?" you ask. "When he's not around, 'course." You jerk your head towards the caravan, and Noctis barely gleans your meaning.

"Yeah. Don't see why not. You seem harmless."

You play with your wristband some more; the feeling of what it hides is suffocating.

"But yeah, Ignis," he says, breaking the silence, "he's a good friend. If a pain in the ass sometimes."

You crack a smile at that, and Noctis only nods. It fades quickly, as you remember what transpired earlier in the day.

"Hey, do you like photography?"

Noctis isn't ready for the sudden change in conversation, and it shows on his face.

"Um, yeah, a little. Is this about that picture from earlier?"

"Yeah."

"I swore I meant to turn the flash off. I was hoping I could get a couple pictures of you without _him_ noticing." He jerks his head towards the caravan, mirroring your earlier action.

"That's a lost cause," you say, a little more forceful. "The flash didn't matter, he would've noticed anyway."

You turn around, eyes darting everywhere. If he's here, if he popped out of the RV for whatever reason, you need to know about it before you ask anything else. There's still a chance he's at the window above you, but you don't see anything in particular, so you take a breath and continue talking to Noctis.

"Can I..." you start, your eyes still combing every nook and cranny of your field of vision. "See it? The photo?"

Noctis seems to notice your frantic movements, but says nothing about them, only responding with a quick, "Sure." He summons it from his inventory.

Noctis acts self-deprecating, but his pictures are truly beautiful. He goes through image after image of Lucian countryside on the way to finding the picture of you, and you make him stop on each one so you can examine it thoroughly.

If you had a camera, you wouldn't have to dream about seeing the crystal blue tides of Galdin Quay again, or the sunset in Lestallum, or the sylleblossoms of Tenebrae. Strange pangs of—what, jealousy? It can't be that, it's too sad—emotion run through you. Even when Noctis's photos are blurry, they're beautiful.

It turns out he's not as interested in taking pictures of people, not even himself, so apart from a couple of group shots orchestrated by Ignis, they're all landscapes.

That is, except for yours.

"Whoa," you say when he gets to it, "is that really me?"

You take the camera out of Noctis's hands to get a closer look.

"Yeah?" He sounds unsure.

It's overexposed what with the flash, but you can still make out a handsome blonde man, staring off past the overlook, eyes as wide with wonder as they probably are now.

"Is...that a good thing?" Noctis asks.

You shake your head and blink a few times. "Yeah. I mean, I think so?"

You hand the camera back to him, and fold your hands into your lap.

"The Ch-I mean, _Ardyn_ , doesn't allow me mirrors."

"What do you mean?"

"Like..." you think for a minute, on his exact wording. "He says I don't need them. That I'm perfect the way I am." A shiver runs down your spine.

Noctis nods slowly, tentatively.

Ignis suddenly comes around the side of the caravan, and sees the two of you leaning against the duffel bag with the camera.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Noctis says a little too fast. Ignis gives him a searching look, before his eyes flicker to you and then over again. Noctis only shrugs, and that seems to be enough for him.

"Dinner's ready," he says, loosening a little. "Over here."

Noctis puts the camera away, gives you a little almost-smile, and the two of you don't talk for the rest of the night.

 

******

 

You know the tell-tale signs of the Chancellor's icy rage well enough that the whole way back from the blockade, you stay as still and small as possible in your seat.

He takes you back to the caravan you stayed at with Noctis the night before, which is surprising in its way, but it makes sense for what you know is coming next. He pays the fee, goes inside alone for a few minutes, and finally returns to pull you by the wrist in with him. He locks the door behind.

The punishment's anything but swift, but you lie still and act as pliable as possible in order to reduce the damage done. At least it's not as bad as what you received after he found your book.

It's become a familiar routine, him fucking you. You know by now what'll please him, assuage his anger a little; what noises to make and when, the responses to his dirty talk, the way you tend to lose your breath when he's getting close. While it's still painful beyond belief, you've come to...kind of zone out during it, relax a little, and let him do what he wants.

When he's finally done with you, you don't dare move for fear of making the leftover pain worse. He falls asleep curled around you, leaving you to stare at the ceiling. You trace the faint floral pattern with your eyes and contemplate that last night Noctis had been lying right where you are now.

The thought's almost comforting.

The time comes, hours later, when the Chancellor wakes. You have to get up, suddenly putting on your armor (a disappointment; you were starting to appreciate the 'normal' clothing) and shuffle out of the caravan and into his dropship. After you pick up Noctis and his retainers, the Chancellor disappears onto the bridge of the ship. You're standing guard by the closed doors to the bridge when Noctis spots you, from the loading bay down below.

"An MT, huh?" he says, loud enough so you can hear him up above.

You don't want to risk another punishment, but then again, you know for sure this time that the Chancellor isn't here. You decide to cut out the middleman and walk up to the railing, hands still clasped behind your back, giving a curt nod in reply.

"Figures," Noctis says, quieter.

He continues looking up at you, and the sight makes you uncomfortable. It only serves as a reminder of why it hurts for you to stand.

He frowns, says something to Ignis and Gladiolus, and walks up the stairs to where you're standing by the railing.

"You okay?" he asks, and it's more tender than anything you deserve. You bite your lower lip.

"I shouldn't be talking to you," you come out with, and look ahead.

"Ardyn'd be mad?" Noctis flips and leans his back against the railing, folding his arms.

You blink away the memories of the afternoon, and nod. You wish he'd make this easier and go away.

"Hmm."

It's harder to keep staring straight ahead when he's standing right next to you.

"Can I take a picture of you?"

Your resolve breaks, and you turn to look at him better.

"Why?"

Noctis shrugs. "Thought you might like it. I gotta have some excuse to show you the few shots I got of the Disc, right?"

You glance at the doors behind you.

"If he catches you talking to me—"

"I'll figure something out."

He takes another picture of you, standing watch by the railing, and you can't help but smile a little. It shows up in the photo, and though it's small, you think it looks good.

The few pictures he has of the Disc are absolutely breathtaking, although the quality is somewhat marred by the fact that he was in a life or death situation at the time. You adore them even in spite of that.

"Wow," you sigh, having grown more relaxed around him. "I wish I had a camera. I'm usually around the Chancellor a lot, but sometimes we go really beautiful places. I wish I could capture that. Like you do."

You talk for a little while and Noctis eventually goes back downstairs to his friends, but you keep your eyes on him.

Yes, your body is aching and pained because of his interference, but you almost don't mind anymore.

 

******

 

The two little moments you had with Noctis stick in your mind through the next few weeks, making you feel strange and light inside. It's a good feeling, you think, even though it seems to go hand in hand with the shifting you experienced when you first met him. You _hope_ it's good, anyway.

You see Noctis a few more times after the dropship, but every time neither of you get to exchange anything but nervous looks.

Finally, by some stroke of luck or spontaneous good mood, Ardyn assigns you to go with Noctis, Ignis, and Aranea to find mythril. You struggle to hide your elation when it's decided.

Even with Gladiolus missing, the four of you fight like you're made to complement each other. Aranea's dragoon training and your long-range skills mean that Noctis and Ignis can focus on swordplay and magic respectively. You wipe out hordes of daemons like they're nothing.

Things only get better when you stop in a room you've already cleared out to get some rest and Noctis approaches you with his camera.

He seems to have taken tons of photos since you last talked, and even more of his friends and himself. You look at them all, feeling happier and lighter than you have in weeks.

"Hey," you say, when he gets to a photo of you, one that you didn't notice him take. "Holy crap, was this during a fight?"

"...yeah," he says, almost defensively.

You look at him and can't help but laugh. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Not really. I warped out to get it."

"You could have died!" You laugh harder.

Noctis rolls his eyes. "Is it good, at least?"

You take a closer look, still smiling. In the picture you have a determined and serious expression as you fire at what looks like a Crème Brûlée. There's something exploding in the background, probably Ignis tossing a fire spell, tinting the whole frame slightly orange.

"It looks great," you say, "I look great."

Noctis perks up a little and skips to the next image.

"Glad you like it."

You lean back against the uneven stone wall behind you. Across the room Ignis and Aranea are deeply engrossed in some conversation, and right next to you Noctis is still looking through the memory on the camera. He soon turns it off, and it disappears back into his inventory. It's nice and quiet, and you start to close your eyes when Noctis speaks up again.

"So, why don't you just defect, like Aranea's considering?"

Your eyes shoot open and you blink a few times while you try to process what was just said.

"What?"

"I know you don't like Ardyn. It seems you don't like the rest of the Niffs either. Why not just leave?"

You bite your lower lip.

"I just...can't."

"Why?"

You shake your head, and feel yourself start to play with your tattooed wrist.

"The Chancellor likes me too much."

" _Likes_ you?"

"Yeah."

Your eyes sweep all across the room, looking anywhere but Noctis. You're casting your eyes about, looking for a flash of burgundy or gray that might suggest an unwanted presence. You end up finding nothing but brick, the glassy sheen of light streaming through water, and Ignis and Aranea against the far wall.

"He doesn't just use me as a bodyguard, you know."

Noctis scooches closer, and it startles you so much you audibly gasp. He seems to notice how uncomfortable you are with being that close to him, and returns the space between you. You breathe easier, and continue.

"He takes me to bed with him. Well," you laugh awkwardly, "not even that. Sometimes he'll just pull me to an empty room in a base or dropship somewhere, order me on my knees, and—"

You shake your head and focus on the feeling of the tattoo on your wrist. Even though you hate the thing, it's what's grounding you right now.

"He says it's part of my duties as his personal MT, but I don't remember being briefed on that when I was assigned to him."

You trace your barcode, faster and faster.

"Sometimes it's a punishment. Like, um, after the first time you showed me your camera."

"Gods." Noctis pulls his knees to his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was my fault, I could have ignored you."

"It really wasn't. You don't deserve that."

That gets the gears in your head turning.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Huh?"

"I'm an MT," you clarify, "I'm your enemy. Even back when you really thought I was just his 'assistant', why did you even bother?"

Noctis leans his head back against the brick.

"The first time I was just...worried about you. Ardyn seemed like a total creeper and you didn't seem like you were enjoying it, so I stepped in. After that, even when we found out that you're an MT, you were just a nice, fun guy. I think I can say we're friends now, right?"

You're dazed by all the things Noctis is saying to you, but you find yourself nodding despite the unreality of it all. "Right."

"You don't seem to want to kill me, so...yeah." Noctis looks towards you, and you meet his warm, shockingly kind eyes. "I kinda care about you."

The words are swimming around in your head, making you feel more human than you actually are.

"Hey, pretty boy, Prom, ya done?"

The two of you look up and see Aranea and Ignis standing now, clearly waiting for you.

You shake yourself out of it and stand immediately, letting Noctis be the awkward one still on the floor.

"We're ready when you are," Ignis adds, looking directly at him.

Noctis sits for a second, looking at you with a cloudy, unreadable expression, before standing and following suit.

 

******

 

You have never operated a phone in your life.

You find you have to pull one of your gloves off to be able to 'unlock' the thing, which costs you seconds you could be using to find what you need. You click into what you assume to be the Phone app, then into contacts, scrolling until you find something, anything that could be it—

A high-pitched shrieking rips through the air all around you. You squeeze deeper into the narrow alleyway you had managed to find amidst the ruined Altissia, trying to hide yourself from the raging goddess outside. As if that would really help your chances of survival.

When you return your attention to the phone, you immediately see it: a contact marked "Prince Charming~". You select it, gulp a little, and wait for him to pick up.

It's hard to hear the dial tone with everything being destroyed around you. You make yourself smaller inside the alley, cramming a finger in your free ear in an effort to hear the phone better.

_"What?"_

Noctis sounds like he's going to murder someone, and you're petrified for just a second until you remember whose phone you're calling from.

"Huh? Oh, oh, Gods no, this isn't Ardyn! It's Prompto."

His anger is replaced by exhaustion, followed by confusion.

_"Oh. Wait, what are you doing?"_

You swallow. "I want to help you. I have an idea to get you to Leviathan, but I need to know where you are first."

_"Um..."_

There's sounds of a struggle in the background, and you're certain it isn't coming from around where you're hiding.

 _"There's a balcony,"_ he pants, _"that overlooks where Luna is."_

You poke out of the alleyway for a moment to survey the remnants of Altissia. You scan the area, looking for the location Noctis is referring to when you spot it. It's quite a long ways away, but you can see it and that's the thing that matters.

"I'm gonna ask you to do something crazy, Noctis."

You take another look. You...you think you can make it?

Noctis notices your pause. _"What?"_

"I'm gonna ask you to jump off that balcony."

He repeats himself, _"What?!"_

You move out of the alleyway completely and duck behind one of the giant Imperial hooks stuck in the tile outside. You swing a leg over it, and flip open a little panel on the side to mess with the wiring.

"Just trust me, okay?"

Noctis hangs up on you, and you're not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. You can only hope he's following your instructions, because the hook launches into the air. You're clinging on for dear life at first, but soon enough you're able to sit up better and act more natural.

You see Noctis, but he doesn't seem to see you. Thankfully he decides to go for it and jump, and the hook shudders as he hits it and grabs on tight. You angle the piece of machinery higher, soaring into the sky.

He looks up, eyes wide with shock, and the sheer dramatic nature of it causes you to smile.

"Miss me?"

You have to whip your head around right after quipping to direct the hook in a safe direction, so you barely hear him respond with a, "How...?"

In a moment of relative calm, you dig inside your chest plate's hiding spot to find the phone you used to call Noctis—Ardyn's phone. You hold it up so he can see it, then chuck it as hard and far as you can into the water.

"You...defected?"

You glance back at him, your proud smile now something just simple and sweet.

"Thanks for the idea, Prince Charming."

 

******

 

When you wake up, everything is soft. The light that filters through semi-transparent curtains gives everything a warm glow, the bed you find yourself lying in is comfortable, white, and squishy (to your relief, you're alone in it) and your armor is gone, leaving you in your uniform.

Ardyn is definitely not responsible for this.

You lie for what must be hours, basking in the quiet. The light through your curtains fades to a more yellow-orange softness when someone opens your door and steps inside.

It's Ignis, wearing darker glasses and wielding a cane.

"Are you awake?" he asks, his voice matching the same softness as everything else in the room.

"Yeah."

"Ah."

There's a chair by the bed, one he seeks out with the tip of his cane and eventually sits in.

"Are you okay?" you both ask at the same time.

He goes first. You make a mental note, that sitting in his nearby chair, he makes no attempt to grab you or your bed.

"It's a souvenir, from the struggle with the Empire."

"Can you see?"

There's a pause as he inhales. "No. Not anymore."

An uncomfortable shiver runs through you. It's fear, but it's not the sort of fear you recognize as you yourself feeling unsafe. You can't quite describe it.

"And you?" Ignis prompts.

"Oh, uh...I seem functional."

"Do you feel alright?"

"Uh..."

You close your eyes for a moment.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm good."

Ignis nods, "All the water around did quite a number on your internal mechanisms. Pardon me if this is...intrusive, you may ask me to stop at any time, but do you by chance know how much of yourself is made of robotics?"

You stare at the lumps that are your legs, hidden by blanket.

Ignis takes your silence as offense.

"I apologize, I'm simply trying to gather information—"

"It's fine, Ignis."

"—I don't want to imply that you're not human."

You look to him again, slightly bewildered by his comment. He has his head tilted, right ear almost parallel to the ceiling.

"I'm an MT," you correct him.

"I think you're more than that," he chuckles. "You deserve care, which is why I'm asking about the nature of your robotics. The doctors and technicians here can pinpoint any remaining problems and give you the treatment you deserve if they know more about how you are built. Does that make sense?"

Once again, you're shocked and dazed by the things these people say about you.

"Prompto?" he asks after a few moments, and you remember that he can't see the look on your face.

"Sorry," you say, "I don't know much about how I'm made. Never really asked."

Ignis rights his head a little bit, "Then we'll have to figure something else out. Thank you for your honesty."

"Can I talk to Noctis?" you blurt.

Ignis smiles, and it's warm.

"He just woke up this morning, but he's still recovering from everything that has happened. I'm sure we can arrange something tomorrow."

"Thanks," you breathe out, a weight off your mind. You fall back into the pillows on your bed, feeling relieved.

You start to consider Ignis as a safe person.

When you do get to talk to Noctis, he's different. He doesn't smile when he sees you, and it seems as though the warmth you know his eyes are made to display might not have ever been there to begin with. You think you understand; he looks how you often felt when Ardyn would force you to pleasure him.

Numb.

Empty.

Resigned to fate.

Noctis does end up smiling a little by conversation's end, and his gratitude for your safety and companionship sticks out in your brain in that unfamiliar-yet-soothing way he always makes you feel.

Within just a few days, Gladiolus is insisting you all board a train to a place called a 'Royal Tomb', in Cartanica.

You stick close to Noctis and sometimes Ignis, but never touching. No one complains or seems bothered by this emotionally clingy yet physically distant behavior.

What they do take issue with, the first night, is when you refuse to sleep in the same room as them.

"We only got one room," Gladiolus bristles, "I'm _sorry_ we can't all sleep in separate compartments."

"I know," you say, biting your lip.

Noctis ignores his comment, looking the iciest you've ever seen him. He gets a little closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable.

"We're not gonna touch you," he says. "You'll have a bunk to yourself. I promise, none of us would try anything."

You can only shake your head.

Noctis sighs a little, and you follow with an, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. I understand you've been through a lot."

It's at this point that Gladiolus makes a displeased noise and heads into the train compartment, not even bothering with a 'good night'.

Noctis tilts his head back, like he does when he's trying to think of something.

"Do you wanna sleep in the Regalia?"

You consider for a moment.

"Sure."

"Can I—"

He stops, struggling with his words.

"Can I at least...walk you there?"

He seems vulnerable, even more vulnerable than you, asking for this.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

Your walk to the back of the train is leisurely and calm. You have your hands in your pockets, and his are in fists by his sides.

Your elbows lightly brush against each other as you walk down the tiny hallways. Every time you feel it, it's like an electric shock that surges through your body. It causes you to panic until you realize that it's a completely innocuous and almost unavoidable touch, and obviously there is no ulterior meaning behind it.

"I'm sorry," Noctis says finally, and you wonder if it's about the elbow thing.

"For what?"

"For what he's done to you."

Oh. So not that, then.

"It's not your fault. It's just," you sigh, "what happened. It's what I was made for."

"To be a sex slave?"

You blush. "No. To serve and protect him. He took that very differently than the people who made me, I guess."

Noctis goes silent again, a distinctly angry look on his face.

"Are you sure you're not mad at me?" you ask, feeling the little brush once more and having to calm yourself down from it.

He stops, and you stop too.

"No."

His eyes are intense as he turns to you, brimming with conflicting emotions.

 _"I hate Ardyn,_ for everything he's done. Not you."

He looks down, considering something, before reaching out and pulling the camera out of the inventory. He holds it out to you.

"This is yours. For when we get to Cartanica, or," he sighs, "Tenebrae."

You look at the camera like it'll disappear if you take your eyes off it. You reach out, carefully avoiding Noctis's fingers, and take it. It sits in your hands for a moment as you stare.

"This is for me? To keep?"

You break into a huge smile.

"Duh. Why would I be offering it to you...?"

You smile and smile and smile, even as you start again towards the back of the train.

When you get to the Regalia he gives you a precious little smirk of his own, a wave, a 'good night', and he's gone.

As much as you trust Noctis, you don't think you'll ever get tired of sleeping alone.

 

******

 

Cartanica is beautiful. Noctis lets you stand for a good twenty minutes, snapping photos of the train, the clouds, the view, the passersby, and even himself before he agrees with Gladiolus (for the first time since he woke up) that you need to investigate the mines before it gets dark.

Noctis pays for new weapons for everyone, including a pistol for you. You lost your signature MT one with your armor somewhere in Accordo, but you adapt to the new model fast enough.

Once actually in the mines, it goes well, all things considered. You stay at the tail end of the group with Ignis most of the time, mentally preparing yourself in the event that you'll have to catch him if he falls. Noctis and Gladiolus, despite their moods, both compliment you on your crack shot. The swampier parts of the mines scare you a little after Altissia, but with the help of the others finding alternate paths for you and Ignis, you make it through mostly unharmed. Even the tensions among the original members of the group seem resolved by that point.

Then the attack on the train happens.

The bliss that is your life as a member of the Prince's retinue and honorary Crown Citizen is shattered when Noctis attacks you repeatedly. Not only does he break his promise not to touch you, multiple times, he pushes you right off the roof of the train and out of his life.

It's this you ponder on as you hang in an MT repair machine, somewhere in the depths of Zegnautus Keep. You had hoped to never experience the suffocating feeling of one of these things ever again, but here you are anyway.

It doesn't seem like Noctis to lie like that. Those smiles, the jokes you traded on the train, the concern he always expressed for you, they don't seem fake. Not to mention, Aranea herself said that Noctis sent her to find you, and your vision in the woods suggested that all would be well. But then, why would he suddenly treat you like that? Why would he go for you and not Ardyn, who was standing there too...?

Almost like a magic spell, you barely think his name and Ardyn's there, standing in the doorway and smiling a deceptively fond and innocent smile.

"I missed you, 01987."

You struggle against the bands on your wrists in a fit of sudden, feral panic, realizing where you are and who you're with and no, no, no, you're not ready, you don't want him to lay a finger on you, you don't want to feel him in your mouth or otherwise or anywhere—

Of course, that's immediately what he goes for, ignoring your jerky movements and kissing you, deep and frenzied. His hands are rubbing up and down, feeling up your bruises and cuts and broken ribs. He takes his sweet time to fondle _everything_. You cry out with pain.

He's talking, waxing poetic about something to do with 'crawling back to me', and 'didn't want you after all', but you can't hear it very well through the waves and waves of panic and nausea that overwhelm you. In a way, it doesn't feel like it's just one tongue and set of hands that are working their way down your abdomen, but like you're feeling every time he's ever touched you at once, the memories searing themselves onto your skin. He releases you from the repair machine and you drop onto your knees, hard, feeling the shock of the fall reverberate through your whole body.

He starts removing layers of clothing and your heart rate gets worse, like the organ itself is trying to claw its way up your throat. He unbuttons his trousers and the panic escalates even further.

Something clicks in you, much like the shifting sensation you feel being around Noctis. You find yourself thinking back to the train in sudden flashes—how little sense Noctis had been making, the broken promise, the walks the two of you would take to the Regalia, the camera. Even beyond that, to the snowy fields you wandered in, to Accordo, to the watery Vesperpool dungeon, to the caravan.

You find an unexpected reservoir of strength within yourself.

Everything goes even and slow, like what's happening isn't quite real. For the first time since being dispatched to Ardyn, since the first time in the tiny bathroom of his dropship when he instructed you very calmly how to suck him off, you fight back.

You push him at his waist and he stumbles backwards, but doesn't lose his balance outright. Some part of your brain recognizes how utterly pathetic a self-defense move that is, but the rest of you feels proud and defiant. You look up at him, craning your sore neck to meet his strangely golden eyes, expression simultaneously shocked and amused.

"No."

The amusement in his face heightens, nearly swallowing the genuine surprise you saw not a moment earlier.

"Oh?"

You stand up on wobbly legs, and you can't believe he lets you. Maybe he wants to see where this is going.

"No," you repeat, out of breath and dizzy that you're finally doing this. "I'm not your MT anymore, Ardyn."

He draws himself up, half undressed, and you feel a flicker of hope before he slams you back into the repair machine. He clasps only your wrists in this time as you buck and writhe underneath him.

"You're right," he says with a chuckle, then leans in closer to your right ear. He gives it a nibble before adding, "You're nothing."

 

******

 

You don't know how many times he's come in the past week.

And no, that pun was not intended on your behalf. The thought just turns your stomach, and... _ugh, never mind._

Every time you fight, and every time he prevails. Your only reason for doing it is something self serving, like you feel you can still retain a slice of your independence if you utter a single 'no' every time he uses you. You know it's certainly not changing his mind, and in reality might actually be turning him on more, but you have to do it. You just do.

As much as you revel in your newfound defiance, you're exhausted. Your body is tired and your clothing messy with come and blood and saliva and sweat, and Ardyn's right in a way—when you look at things realistically, there's no good reason why Noctis and the others should rescue you. You're some random MT friend that they made, briefly, and you're being held in the same complex as the daemon obliterating Crystal.

That's why Noctis's voice would have been such a shock, should you have been conscious enough to hear it.

When you wake next, everything's soft again, though not quite like Accordo was.

You're in a bed, somewhere, arms, legs, and chest no longer bound. You feel the instinctive urge to roll over, and when you do, pain jolts through your whole body and you shoot straight up.

You see two things you're not expecting: a harsh, bright light, and Noctis looking at you with deep concern.

"Prompto," is all he says, and then looks away, letting out a shaky exhale.

You scan the room for Ardyn, nothing signaling his presence, and instead find Noctis again, metal bunkbeds, lockers, and Ignis and Gladiolus in beds on either side of yours, fast asleep.

"We're still in the Keep," is the first thing out of your mouth. Noctis seems to cringe, curling into himself and nodding.

"Yeah, we are. I'm sorry."

"No, it's—it's fine."

"It's really not," he laughs. "This is my fault. I did this to you."

There's silence.

You don't know how to prove him wrong; you understand this mood he's in perfectly because you've experienced it yourself. No matter what you say, Noctis isn't going to believe you.

"We had to touch and carry you to get you from that...thing, to here. Just so you know."

"At least I wasn't conscious?" is all you're able to say, awkwardly.

He starts again, on a new train of thought.

"I thought you were—"

"Ardyn?" you finish, smiling a little. "I know. He let that slip while we were together."

"Fuck," he says, and finally looks at you again. "Prom, I—"

"No."

God, you're getting so used to saying that word. It makes you a little giddy.

"You don't deserve to beat yourself up over this. If anything, it's my fault—"

"—don't you dare—"

_"—listen."_

The word is quiet and weak, and maybe that's what gets Noctis to stop and obey it.

"We were always going to run into him again. There was always a chance that he was gonna..."

Your voice falters.

"...gonna take me back. What matters, Noct, is that you came."

You're struggling to catch your breath, and trying not to cry, but it happens anyway.

"You came. Thank you for that."

You're able to get the words out with remarkable diction, considering the circumstances.

Noctis is crying too, soon enough. Both of you are suddenly the biggest, saddest messes on the face of Eos.

You eventually stop, all cried out and exhausted, at the same time as one another.

Noctis is able to say, "Do you think you're gonna be able to walk?"

"Ah..."

You sniffle, and run your hand through your hair. "With a couple Elixirs, yeah, I think so."

Noctis breathes in for five, holds for five, and exhales for seven. It's a trick you taught him on the way to Cartanica, and he seems to have a lot more practice at it than when you last saw him.

"I fought," is something that tumbles out of your mouth. "Every time, I told him no."

Noctis's practiced breathing is interrupted and he chokes a little. His eyes are still all blotchy and red from the emotional moment a few minutes prior.

"That's..." he starts. Reconsiders. "I'm proud of you, Prom."

"Thanks. It didn't really change his mind, but it...felt good to say."

Noctis nods. "He won't touch you again. We're gonna end this."

You smile.

"I know."

 

******

 

You're in the artificial lamplight when Gladiolus raps on the front door to the garage.

"What," you call out, and hear the unmistakable clomping of his heavy boots on the cement floor as he walks in.

"We finally got word from Talcott; he's heading back from Lestallum."

"Nice," you say, truly meaning it, but wanting to get back to the headlights you're fixing up. "Anything else?"

"Not really," Gladiolus says as he works his way farther into the garage, "Just glad that we might be getting a meal soon."

You hum in response, adding a tiny 'yeah', and reaching for the soldering equipment in the corner of your work desk.

"Yeah, I'll...go," Gladiolus says, finally taking the hint that you want to be left to what you're doing, and then thankfully leaves.

It's not that you don't enjoy his company—the two of you have grown quite close since Noctis left. It's not that you mind the background chatter either; Hammerhead always has some sort of noise running in the background, whether it be Hunters having meetings, desperate folks coming to Cindy for her craftsmanship and supplies, or even just the gentle white noise of the stadium lights that surround the perimeter. It's soothing to hear life going on around you, as it instills in you a surety and a hope that it can survive in the harshest of times. Not that you're not already kind of the poster child for that, but still.

Right now, though, you let all that fade to the very back of your head.

If you can rig these headlights up the right way, similarly to your pistol, they could be humanity's saving grace. They could save countless lives in this world of ruin, and you can't risk putting it off anymore.

You're partially through with making history when everything goes dead silent. The distant chatter and bustle of outside the garage and off at the old rest stop is suddenly and strangely missing.

It bothers the hell out of you, and you couldn't concentrate anymore if you tried.

"Iggy? Gladio?" you shout, hoping either of them can hear you all the way outside the garage.

There's no response. The two men haven't left your side in years unless they go hunting, and both of them said they were taking a day off to recover from a series of nasty missions.

You stand up, setting down your tools, and your heart pounds, assuming the worst. You don't know what sort of daemon could knock out an entire base of people without a sound, but you're going to go find out. You don't even take the time to wipe your greasy, slightly singed hands off before you grab your pistol, and run outside and you see—

You see a curious twenty year old, framed by the entrance to the Galdin Quay Bistro.

You see a concerned twist to his mouth as he walks away from his car and towards you, a simple, _"Are you okay?"_ on his lips.

You see him tired, you see him smiling, you see him both get frustrated and lack emotion altogether and cry with you, holed up in an Imperial dormitory.

You see him, standing next to a familiar black and white dog, hand still resting on the passenger-side door of Talcott's truck. He's ten years wiser, more tired, and surprisingly handsome with a beard.

He notices you standing there, turning away from a hushed discussion with Cindy.

"Prom," he says, and you feel ten years younger, you feel nearly brand new.

Your walk towards Noctis speeds up until you break into a run. You barely notice how you don't correct your path towards him, instead completely careening into the poor guy and grabbing him around the middle. The impact is so rough it pushes him against the truck's door and there's a thudding noise as it happens.

There's more silence for a moment, and Gladiolus bursts out laughing.

It ruins the mood a little bit.

"Hey," Noctis says, and even with your eyes closed you can tell that his arms are still in the air and he's putting forth effort not to move. "Can I—"

"Go for it," you reply.

Gladiolus laughs harder as Noctis slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you and leans his head on yours. It's not a malicious laugh; if anything it drips with relief.

"Oh come now, what is going on?" you hear Ignis say, and Gladiolus wheezes a bit, slowing down, to explain the scene to him.

You hold tighter, and Noctis moves his head so he can run his fingers through your hair, the way you do when you're stressed.

The something that shifted in you when you first met him seems to finish sliding into its new place, warm and comfortable in your chest.

This is what love is like. This is what home is like. This is what safety is like. All these little platitudes just slip themselves quietly into your brain as you hear Cindy and Ignis discussing something you can't quite hear, Gladiolus's earnest laughter subsiding into quiet giggles. As you feel Noctis, here and real and solid and giving you the warm, _consensual_ physical contact you never knew you needed.

 

******

 

The sunrise means a lot of things to you.

Much like living at Hammerhead for so long, it gives you hope. It reminds you that Ardyn, the Accursed, is gone for good, and he truly can't hurt you or anyone else again. It reminds you that sometimes the worst, most painful struggles can be worth it once they're over.

Most of all, it's inextricably linked to the man you choose to wake up next to every morning.

You don't have a sexual relationship with him. Even some ten years after everything that's happened, you're only starting to warm up to physical affection and cuddling with him and him alone. He doesn't mind, at all. Every day he's glad you're safe and back with him, and you feel likewise. Nightmares are still something that plague the both of you, but with each other's aid, their terror doesn't last.

Even when things feel difficult or impossible as you try to rebuild literal Kingdoms, the two of you are working. Healing. Growing stronger.

And no matter what happens, dawn always, always returns.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 9/29/17: I'm starting a series of fics based around this work, that take place before and after (and a couple in the middle) of it. So you know, this writing may come under construction later on so it fits together better with its siblings. Thank you for reading! And I hope you enjoy this adventure.
> 
> EDIT 11/3/17: Fixed minor grammatical errors, and updated with some continuity nods to the works prior, as well as to follow. If you've been reading this series up until this point and are confused by how out of place this feels with the others, I apologize. When I wrote this months ago, I had no intention of writing a series based around its premise, but, well, here we are! 
> 
> Regardless of the quality of this particular entry, I hope you continue to stick around. We're not even halfway through this adventure yet...


End file.
